PostVampiracy Shock
by erirose
Summary: HGDM. Hermione is a vampire, turned under suspicious circumstances, postHBP. In a mixup, she turns Draco as well. What happens when Hermione realizes the powers she accidentally gave Draco could utterly destroy him and the entire wizarding world...
1. Actions have consequences

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter, etc, belongs to J. K. Rowling. I just wanna write some typical cheesy cliche fanfiction with her characters. ;)

**Chapter One:** Actions have consequences...

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Pale and glowing.

That's _all_ she was now. No longer the brilliant witch of yesterday, no longer the best friend of _the_ Harry Potter,_ the _Ronald Weasley..

All she was was pale, bloodless, soulless, and -- nearly -- friendless.

Her face had not the fair glow of health, but rather a luminescent white light-source radiance. Her bright amber, enormous eyes stood out more than they ever had when she was mortal. Surrounded by black lashes, thick and long, they made her look bright and innocent.

But she was _not_ innocent. Not any longer…

All she had left was her wand...and the ever-trusty Hogwarts library. Books would never despair of her, or betray her, or hurt, or --- she shook her head.

She was surprised they let her into the school anymore, much less resume classes as normal.

Well. _Almost_ normal.

She turned to the mirror in front of her.

The Mirror of Erised. Quite legendary --- and she was, of course, a sucker for anything mentioned in more than one reliable book --- but at that moment, she _hated_ it, so very much. It mocked her well, for being an inanimate object and without conscious thought.

She glared at her mortal image in the mirror. It held some resemblance of face and coloring to her visage that presented itself to the room...but the familiar image in the mirror was _not_ what she was now... a foreign monster.

Light pink, blood-drained lips hid small, sharp, pearly white fangs. Fangs, for goodness sake's. Not hideous or long as

she had expected; instead they showed themselves, as she felt them with her tongue, petite and glimmering.

She touched her face absently with a white finger and secretly longed for the texture that had been there before, not the papery-soft smoothness her alabaster skin had of current. A sleek strand of wavy chestnut hair fell across her face, and she wished for the fuzzy bushiness she had once upon a mortal lifetime. Sortof.

She _still_ did not understand why she chose this... this "path". When one had a choice between eternal life and death…which does one choose?

Maybe she had been vain. She had never really been popular with the guys at Hogwarts, save, of course, for her two best friends---but they were friends. _ Friends. _With emphasis on 'were'. She knew of the beauty the vampires were legend for, despite their chilly coldness.

She had known they existed, always, even in her pre-Hogwarts days. For a time when she was younger... she wished she was one. Almost.

…but now that she was no longer flesh and blood, but cold and pale...

What _did_ she want?

Now that she was what she was...she was considered in league with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. A secret, tiny, hidden spot in her soul sparked to life at this thought, and for a split-second, she felt no remorse for it.

But evil would _not _have its way with her. Would _absolutely_ not, she decided. No matter the darkness of her creature, her immortality.

No matter how many murders she committed.

The honey-hued eyes she loathed so much shifted from her no-longer appearance in the mirror to the corpse as pale as she lying on the ground beside her. A shimmering lock of golden hair fell suddenly over closed eyelids hiding dark grey eyes and she looked away quickly.

She wished she hadn't.

She sighed, pushing her regrets behind her, and with one last glance at the young man on the floor, turned away from her mortal image. She was about to turn the handle of the door to the outside when she heard a faint moan, barely audible even in the dead silence.

Whirling around to face the room, she gasped softly. The corpse was not a corpse any longer! It couldn't be.

She thought he was dead...

She watched with eyes widened in horror as the blond figure on the floor stirred and groaned weakly, slowly rising. He shook his head and glanced around on the floor, presumably for his wand. His eyes found her feet, and she saw his eyes narrow. She winced, and hurried to speak as he quickly stood and straightened, glaring, wand raised.

"I…"

He scowled and interrupted her, wand pointed threateningly at her face.

"You tried to kill me."

She made a small, squeaking noise in the top of her throat and opened her mouth to speak once more.

He stopped her with a thrust of his wand and loud words,

"No- don't say _anything_!"

She snapped her mouth shut quickly as he circled her slowly, footsteps careful and smooth, wand arm alert and ready for attack.

"I'm going to leave this place," he said, glancing about the room with narrowed, glittering eyes, stopping once at the Mirror of Erised and then continuing on, "and you…are going to _let me_."

He backed away slowly towards the door, his dark grey, haunting eyes locked with her wary light brown ones all the while.

In a flurry of black and green robes, he disappeared through the door, leaving her alone in the room with one thought.

He hadn't even noticed her immortality.

Hermione Granger hurried, horribly late, into the dungeons. She slammed into her desk noisily in a mass of chestnut hair.

You'd think, with what she was, she'd have a bit more grace.

"_Miss_ Granger. Nice of you to finally join us..."

She jumped at the sudden appearance of Professor Snape.

"Sorry, sir, I was...detained."

"_Kindly_ do not be so again. Ten points from Gryffindor."

Hermione sighed, shrugged, and merely began organizing the ingredients for her potion, ignoring the glares of fellow Gryffindors.

Halfway through the potion, she realized she didn't have any lacewings left - she would have to retrieve some from the store-room.

Leaving her potion bubbling and frothing, she meandered about the many cauldrons and headed towards the door of the store-room.

She was surprised by one Draco Malfoy slamming open the door and looking pale and wan and..._fanged_.

She gasped as his face took on a look of fury as he spotted her and changed direction, pulling her roughly into the room.

Shutting the door behind him, he pointed his wand at it and muttered a spell, and instantly the noise from the classroom subsided. Malfoy whirled and glared at her, shouting,

"What - the _hell_ - did you DO TO ME!" He jerked his thumb towards his newly glistening fangs and grimaced.

"I..."

"Is that all you can say! What happened to Potty's brave little Mudblood friend? What would he _say_, to see you speechless in the face of _weakling_ Malfoy?" He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her violently.

Though the picture was a bit shaky and blurred by painful tears, she observed Malfoy's not-much-changed appearance. His sleek and shiny straight-blond hair was still as well-taken care of as ever, though his pale face was a bit paler than usual, and now he _glowed_. Of course, the fangs were the most obvious, gleaming, barely hidden behind his pale, sneering lips.

"Stop it! STOP!" She cried, bringing her hands up against his chest. A mighty push, and he stopped shaking her, but didn't let go of his painful grip of her arms.

"You stupid idiot, get your hands off of me! You have no right to attack me like this! GET OFF!"

He tightened his grasp and she winced.

"I do too have the right, Granger, after what you did to me -- with what you turned me into -- a, a...monster!"

She writhed in his arms and spat in his face,

"I didn't TURN you into a monster, Malfoy, you ALREADY WERE ONE!"

He ignored the insult and continued.

"I demand an explanation and I'm not letting go until I get one!"

She exploded in a fit of fury rage, losing control completely.

"I don't HAVE ONE! You're just lucky you're not dead, the way you barged in on me!"

Malfoy scoffed.

"What could a filthy Mudblood like YOU do to me?"

"You know nothing of me, Mal--"

A click was heard, and the door swung open, revealing a shocked Neville. Malfoy released Hermione's arms instantly, leaving behind red finger-shaped bruise marks.

She backed away from him hastily, turned, and sped past Neville, who was standing in the doorway looking agape at the now seething and enraged Malfoy.

Hermione hurriedly finished her potion, took a sample, and set it on Snape's desk. Grabbing her satchel, she ran out of the dungeons, heading for the Gryffindor Common Room, crying silently.

A million and one thoughts were flooding her mind, but one dominated her subconscious:

_I didn't mean to! I didn't mean to turn him!_

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Please do review. Mwee.


	2. Her turning, his revelation

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter, etc, belongs to J. K. Rowling.

**Chapter Two: **Hermione's Turning, Draco's Revelation

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_Hermione Granger started awake with a jolt, feeling a tap on her shoulder. She blinked, looking up at a concerned woman._

"_Hun, you fell asleep. I'm sorry, but we're closing now."_

"_What? Oh, thank you…sorry…" she mumbled, embarrassed._

_She couldn't believe it. She had fallen asleep in the library again._

_Shaking her head to clear the grogginess, she stumbled out of the library exit._

_It was creepy outside the library at night. Lamps lit the street feebly, creating a soft reflective glow on the creeping fog. She rushed down the cement library steps, hurrying to get home and escape the dark night of the town. She hoped her parents wouldn't worry too much…it was too late for a city bus to be running; she would have to walk home._

_She stepped briskly past countless alley-ways, glancing around constantly. A soft scuffling noise sounded to her left, and she jumped. A squirrel rushed past her feet, making her feel foolish. _

_The dark was nothing to be afraid of._

_-------_

Neville Longbottom gaped at the enraged Draco Malfoy in the store-room. What had happened? Hermione had looked rather angry as well, rushing out like that...had they had a row?

What a stupid question. Of course they had.

But what about?

Malfoy approached him, sneering. "Tell anyone anything, Longbottom, and you're _dead_."

Neville nodded quickly as Malfoy stormed past him.

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"_Lumos." A whisper came from directly ahead of her, and she froze in mid-step._

_A light appeared in front of her. Her eyes widened. What was a wizard doing in her little Muggle hometown? _

Death Eaters_, her mind whispered. _

_She gasped. _

_No, no! She was just being paranoid; what business could they have with her little town? _

Murder...

_She stared at the light as it moved towards her slowly. Suddenly, it disappeared. She couldn't see a single thing in the foggy night. She reached for her wand and muttered quickly, panicking,_

"Lu--"

_A hand over her mouth tasting of blood and dirt stopped her mid-spell._

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Harry Potter glanced once at Hermione as she rushed out of the dungeons and wondered.

He looked over at Ron and saw that he, too, had seen her dramatic exit. He met Ron's eyes. Ron shrugged.

Whatever it was, it was no concern of theirs any longer.

Harry hesitated, glancing again at the door.

Were they really doing right, ignoring her?

It was her fault, right? She was with _them_ now, the Death Eaters...

She meant to abandon them, right?

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"Silencio." _The hand left her mouth; instinctively, she tried to scream. The spell prevented any sound from leaving her throat and she panicked, running forward, away from her assailant. Strong arms caught her about the waist before she barely went a meter and dragged her backwards into an alley. She writhed and fought, dropping her bag in the process, but whoever was attacking her was very intent on doing so. She was thrown on the dirty ground of the alley and she scrambled backwards, eyes wide and terrified._

"_What are you doing! GET AWAY!" she screamed, but nothing came out; she was only mouthing the words, invisible in the dark night. She could not see her captor's face above her; the streetlight shone directly at her face and she was blinded._

_The dark, shadowy shape moved swiftly then, knocking her flat, and she froze. _Rape?_ Hands dug into her arms and held her against the dirt-covered stone; she fought furiously with her hands and nails and elbows. Anything to get her away, to get them to stop---_

_A sharp pain ricocheted through her body, starting at her neck, and she gasped soundlessly. It felt like all the life was being drained out of her. Staring up at the starless, cloudy sky above her, she felt the rushing in her veins, felt her heart pumping ferociously as it tried in vain to keep the blood in her body, felt herself going dizzy…_

_Shutting her eyes tight against the horror of the situation, she let her arms go limp and she stopped thinking abruptly, distancing herself from the pain…_

_She fell unconscious._

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Hermione snuggled deeper into an armchair, clutching blankets around herself. The fire in front of her blazed merrily, oblivious to her misery.

She had the _worst_ headache. Worse than when she had stayed up studying an entire night once...no, this was a throbbing, pulsing, thirsty headache.

Maybe if she fell asleep, it would all be a very, very bad dream, and she'd wake up to find Harry and Ron next to her, complaining about Potions homework, as usual…

But no, they were up in the boy's dormitory, having exited the common room with wary looks when she appeared…she couldn't fool herself into believing everything was normal.

Why couldn't they have supported her, believed her story? Would they rather have had her_ die_, instead of becoming immortal?

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_Cold. She was so cold. Wet, too -- it was raining. She looked up at the grey, drenched morning sky, emotionless. Tired. Cold._

"_Would you like to live?"_

_A harsh voice broke through the sound of rain hitting windows, the street, her skin. A man's voice, she noted vaguely. She continued staring at the sky above her, feeling the rain drip onto her face, into her eyelids, her mouth, her nose…_

Live? Am I not already dead?

_The figure in the shadows next to her spoke again, quieter this time, almost regretful --_

"_Would you like to live?"_

_She was so weak. So weak. She tried to lift her head to squint at the figure in black beside her, but failed. Instead, she closed her eyes and let her head fall to the side, her cheek pressing against cold, wet stone. A clump of matted, sopping hair fell across her closed eyes._

"_Yes…"_

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She was a vampire, a dark creature, on the side of You-Know-Who, practically alone in Hogwarts - for the only other dark creature here that she knew of was Draco Malfoy. And it was her fault that he was one in the first place. She had said it was his fault, surprising her as he did…but really, it was hers. Hers only…

He didn't seem too keen on camaraderie. Then again, neither was she. Before, they were complete enemies, in every sense of the word, but now...well...just because they were the only two vampires in the school didn't mean they had anything else in common.

Maybe she was lucky it was him who had walked into that room instead of Harry, or Ron, or Ginny --- at least she didn't turn one of her friends. Former friends, anyway. She scowled at the red-and-gold rug at her feet.

No, wait, that was too cold --- Draco Malfoy may have been a slimy git with no conscience and a cold heart, but he certainly didn't deserve _this _fate.

Right?

What would have happened if she hadn't accidentally turned him? He would be dead - she still wasn't quite sure if that was a bad thing or not - and she would still be Hermione Jane Granger, Mudblood Vampire, former member of the "Golden Trio"…

It really wasn't fair. She had been top of her class, admired by teachers and students alike, best friend to Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Destroy-Evil…none of that really mattered on that night. It was death, or vampirism. And now, she _was_ the very evil she had set out to destroy with her friends. Right? She was so _very_ confused. It was not a feeling she liked, nor was used to. From the start of her immortality, she read as much as she could find on vampires...and as far as she could tell they were evil, dark creatures possessing a black heart, no matter _who_ they were when mortal.

But she was still Hermione, right? She _felt_ the same, most of the time...

She wished she had been safe at home, that night. If only she had stayed home, instead of following her stupid insatiable curiosity. That one night had turned everything she knew completely upside-down...

Hermione shook her head. Dwelling on the past would not help. She had to think logically, and clearly, and figure a way out of the mess she had made.

Malfoy seemed angry and upset now…but would he be when he realized his new abilities as a vampire could be used for evil? He would be a raging murderer, only egged on by his Death Eater father and Voldemort himself…turning everyone in sight, to fuel the forces of evil and destruction…

Oh, Merlin. She should have killed him, rather than unleash him, a minion of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, newly powerful to the world...

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Draco Malfoy stormed out of Potions, silently fuming, a dangerous scowl on his face.

_Stupid Mudblood!_

What would his father say? His mother?

_Aarggh..._

He reached the Slytherin dormitory entrance. Muttering the password, he entered the chilly green-and-silver clad common room. He flew up the stairs to his dormitory, robes flying.

He approached the silver mirror by his bed.

And smiled.

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Review:)


	3. His turning, her struggle

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter, etc, belongs to J.K. Rowling and her publishers. I claim no ownership to any of her characters.

**Chapter Three: **His turning, her struggle

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_His vision was blurred. He couldn't see ten feet in front of him; everything was grey. His hand reached out before him to feel for obstacles, his feet shuffling slowly along._

_Helpless._

_His fingers felt along a wall. Sensitive, white fingertips touched hinges, and he knew he had found a door. Then he was at the entrance…a soft light flickered across his features, and the door swung inward, revealing Hermione Granger, huddled and weeping softly at the base of a mirror inside a small, dark room._

_Her face turned up towards him, pale and wet, despairing. Her face turned angry as she spotted him - and she disappeared into a mass of dark shadow, barely visible in the dimly lit room. He turned immediately and was about to flee when the shadow swooped in front of him._

_Pain._

_He writhed in silent agony as Granger-turned-shadow pounced upon him. His body was being ripped inside out and back again; he could feel every pulse and every beat of his struggling mortal heart. Dazedly, he watched, wide-eyed, as his fingers turned deadly white, devoid of blood._

_All he could see was shadow; all he could feel was pain._

_It was far too much._

_He blacked out._

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Draco Malfoy sat up, breathing heavily. He _hated_ that dream.

It had a been a bloody _week_ since he had come upon Granger so unluckily in the Room of Requirement - so why didn't the dreams leave him? It was inconceivable that he was actually _afraid_ of Mudblood Granger. No, his dreams must be trying to tell him something…for as absurd as that sounded, for at 6'2", he towered over Granger's tiny frame and he was positive she couldn't do anything to him.

Not anything more than she already _had_, anyway.

Draco rubbed his face with his hands wearily and stood, stretching slightly.

He sniffed. Why would any self-respecting vampire choose to turn her, a puny Mudblood? Better off just to drink her life (though he didn't know why anyone would want her dirty blood in the first place) and let her die.

After all, she had left _him_ to die.

He scowled. She would have to pay for that.

Nobody (almost) kills a Malfoy and gets away with it.

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Hermione woke in the middle of the night to voices in her head.

Disconcerted, she extricated herself from the armchair quickly and sat up.

She could have sworn she heard voices. It didn't bode well for her sanity, but she was sure she had heard _something_. Maybe it was just _one_ voice.

"_Silly Granger…"_

Yes, definitely one voice. She shivered slightly, wrapping her blanket around herself.

"_Your friends distance themselves now…"_

_Yes, yes, _she thought absently as the faint whispering got steadily louder, _I knew that…_

"…_do you know why? Your heart is blacker than any pitiful human's could ever be…"_

_Black heart? _Hermione frowned, clutching the blankets to her chest. _Stupid voices_, she thought. _My "heart" is perfectly clean…Ron and Harry deserted me because I didn't choose death! _She knew this perfectly well; they had as good as told her.

"…_and there is nothing you can do about it."_

Yes, the voice was definitely getting rather invasive, she decided. _Go away_, she told it.

She heard a chuckle, and the voice continued, loud and demanding, but whispering and soothing --

"_Silly, silly Granger…you should have killed him…"_

_Killed…? Oh…Malfoy. _Well, she had _thought_ she did. _He just sortof... _lived_ again._

"…_it would be better to give into the darkness, you know…less pain, to give into your new and secret desires…do not fight me," _The voice was really annoying her now. The more she listened, the more she wanted to do its bidding --- and that wouldn't do at all.

_Nor would it help to have an emotional breakdown_, she supposed, _but there's really no avoiding that,_ she thought regretfully. _Damn female hormones…_

For silent tears had already trailed paths down her face, hot and wet, and she found herself breathing significantly harder than when she had awoke --

"…_you can be as rational and logical and intelligent as you like, Granger…you will give in…"_

"No!" Hermione spoke vehemently to the empty room; her own words echoed around her, startling her. A little hiccoughing sob escaped her mouth, and she covered it with her hand. "I'm still Hermione!"

The voice chuckled _again, damn it _-

"_Stupid girl…" _

She stiffened, bristling -- stupid was not something she was used to being described as.

"…_face it, my dear…you are a creature, not human anymore - and you have already created another one of your own, such an extraordinary concept…you are darkness and shadow alone now; the body you possess is nothing more than a cold shell of your mortal body…you know this…"_

Angered now, for the voice was completely right, she stood up and glared at the ceiling resolutely.

"So what? You are not me…you don't exist; you're just a figment of my imagination, and even if I have gone mad, I won't let myself…"

"_...kill? Oh, you shall, dear, you shall…you WILL kill, and be dark…nobody can stop you, of course…not even your precious hero friends can 'save the world', with you in their way…"_

"What!" Hermione exclaimed, thoroughly startled. "I'm not going to stand in Harry's way, even if I would be able to! For Merlin's sake -- I would never betray him!"

"_Even though he has deserted you at your hour of need…"_

She snorted. "Honestly, he'll come around, the both of them will, they're just being stubborn _boys_, they know it's really still me --"

"_They are under no such delusion…you are nothing but evil to them anymore, a simple part of their past, a minor obstacle…"_

"I'm not any obstacle of theirs!" She spun around in the empty room, whispering frantically, her hands bunched in fists at her sides, glaring at the still air, searching - "I'm not going to bloody _help _the Death Eaters!"

Eyes roving the room feverishly, she failed to find a corporeal form, and it drove her mad -- there had to be a logical explanation! She realized now that this simply _wasn't_ her own mind, as much as she'd like to believe it was, because that would be so much easier -- no, it was definitely intruding…where _was_ it! She had her wand now, and was clutching it tightly in a white-knuckled fist.

"Who are you?" she whispered to the empty room.

She received no response, only a quiet, sinister chuckle that echoed in her head.

Growing slightly hysterical, she began to sob softly as she collapsed to the floor in a crumpled heap. Her cheek pressed to the carpeted floor; her lips worked furiously, tears running fast and hot down her pale face --

"I'm not evil, I'm not, really, I'm not…I will not HELP YOU! I will not kill innocents…I will never, never, never, ever betray Harry…"

A small sound, almost like an exasperated sigh; the voice spoke again:

"You are thirsty."

Hermione stopped muttering abruptly and sat up slowly, staring blankly ahead.

When had her headache reappeared?

An odd, confused look came over her face and she placed a hand on her forehead - cold, as always now…

"Thirsty?"

A flicker of dark shadow flashed on her face as she smoothly rose to her feet.

She left the room, eyes dark and swirling black, her mind trapped inside of her, screaming to herself _not to go, not to give in…_

"Oh, but you shall give in, little Granger…you shall," a voice whispered in the dark as the door shut with a small thump, leaving behind only blackness --- and that soft, terrible, sinister voice.

--------

Draco whistled happily as he strolled down the deserted nighttime halls of Hogwarts.

Oh, yes, Granger was going to get it. He had it all planned out; it would only take a bit of persuasion.

He stuck his hands in his robe pockets, humming an old tune Goyle had had playing in the Common Room.

He was headed for the kitchens - after all, a hard day's work of planning revenge on a mud blood made one rather hungry. A steaming mug of butterbeer should do it, he decided. Or perhaps something a tad stronger, with a bit of scone on the side --

_Mmm, yes, that will do, _he decided finally.

He was appreciating the tendency of House Elves to love to serve when he saw a strange sight in the hallway and nearly tripped.

Hermione Granger, out of bed and roaming the halls. Head Girl Granger, breaking a major rule. His eyes nearly boggled out of his head.

What the bloody hell was she doing?

She was walking oddly, not at her usual hurrying pace, but calm and smooth; controlled, almost.

Also what she was not doing was watching out for herself.

She walked smack in the middle of the hallway, in full view of anyone who decided to roam the halls at night, including --

_Mew._

A scraggly cat with yellow, piercing eyes stalked the corner, her eyes looking past Hermione.

Oh, shit! This was great! Mudblood Granger was going to get caught breaking a rule!

Filch came around the corner that Mrs. Norris had just came from.

"What is it, Mrs. Norris? A student out of bed, eh? We'll catch 'em, we will…"

He continued hobbling down the hall, lantern sending light twitching into every corner.

Draco's jaw dropped. Granger couldn't be ten feet away from Filch, clearly visible in the lantern-light…but Filch walked right past her!

For that matter, right past her and heading towards _him_! Fuck, why hadn't he stayed in bed?

He pressed himself against the wall next to a thick tapestry, vainly hoping he could blend in.

The cat went past him first, sniffing.

Draco decided then and there to never wear cologne again, for the cat turned and looked right at him.

Breathing shallowly, he stared back at the cat as he watched, from the corner of his eye, Filch notice the cat's interest and hobble towards him, eyes fixed towards the very place he was standing ---

_Shit._

Filch came to a halt not two feet in front of him, lantern squeaking in his tight grasp, and turned, pale eyes scanning ---

Draco shut his eyes, waiting for a screeching call of 'student out of bed!…

…but none came.

Baffled, he opened his eyes again. Filch's eyes were right on him, but saw past him --- was he invisible? Draco looked down at his body. No, he could see himself quite clearly ---

What was going on? Was Filch's eyesight finally failing?

Surely not; for right then, a spider came scuttling silently out into the hallway and Filch's eyes snapped to it. He snorted and turned away, muttering,

"Damn cat…chasing spiders…"

Draco ran in front of Filch stupidly, waving a hand frantically in his face.

Filch didn't flinch.

Draco grinned. He could get away with anything now!

It was more than Potter and his friends could accomplish these days.

Except, of course, for Granger -- who was still walking silently forward, seeming to have ignored both Draco and Filch.

Was something wrong with her? Perhaps she was sleepwalking. He strode towards her and waved a hand in front of her face, much like he did with Filch.

She didn't flinch, either.

It was baffling. Why couldn't anyone see him?

Or her? Even though _he_ could?

Was she simply seeing him, but not responding?

Definitely sleepwalking, then.

Her eyes were strange, though; he could have sworn her eyes were a lighter brown color - not this dark, liquid black.

Not that he had ever noticed her eyes; he just doubted that they were quite so dark when she clearly was not of dark coloring, with her pale skin and light-brown hair.

She kept walking, him following beside her, watching her intently.

She took no notice of anything around her, except to turn when there was a corner and to take the stairs with a floating grace.

It was really as if she was in some sort of trance.

Where was she going?

_Screw the kitchens, _he thought.

He was going to follow her.

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Whee. Another chapter. This one was really fun, and kinda took its own course...and it's rather longer than the others. I kept debating whether to split it in two or not.

I left you with a mild cliffhanger; mostly because I don't know where she's going yet. xP

Review please!


	4. Dreams and Reality

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter, etc, belongs to J.K. Rowling and her publishers. I claim no ownership to any of her characters.

**Chapter Four: **Dreams and Reality

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She walked on, ignorant of her surroundings. It was all very strange. The Granger he knew and hated was paranoid and cautious - and never, it seemed, without her damned bodyguards. Though, he recalled, they hadn't been as clingy lately.

And he was sure she was never so graceful. Maybe it was just that she was free of that monstrous book bag she was forever carting around.

She had to be possessed. Or imperio'd. Or stunned and moblicorpse'd - there was a long list of possibilities. Normally he would stay far, far away from a possibly possessed Granger - hell, she took enough swings at him when she was conscious and aware.

He shook his head. Honestly, she spent far too much time around that hulking Weasley.

_"At least she used to,"_ he mused.

She was nearing the entrance hall now, and he wondered just _where_ she was headed.

-------

Draco was freezing. He hadn't thought she would be going outside -- and hence hadn't thought of bringing his cloak to keep warm while he followed her. Which really wasn't such a bright idea, in retrospect. He really was bloody freezing.

Shivering and trying futilely not to show it, he glared at Hermione's floating form in front of him. It was entirely her fault he was out here. If she hadn't been crazy and out of bed at all hours of the morning, he would be in his warm - okay, not warm, but warmer than _this_ - room and sleeping peacefully!

Draco huffed, a sudden cloud of icy steam escaping his mouth. Stupid, bucktoothed, frizzy-haired, know-it-all, bookworm annoying chit of a...

...girl?

She had stopped. "_About time, too," _his mind supplied.

On the other hand...he wasn't sure if he quite liked her destination.

Hermione was standing (or rather, floating) at the very edge of the Forbidden Forest - the dark expanse of trees that marked the edge of the Hogwarts grounds.

Draco stopped as well, eyeing the forest warily and rubbing his arms vigourously. He didn't have very many good memories of the thing. Actually, he probably didn't have a single pleasant experience associated with it.

Honestly, Granger _was_ insane - nobody in their right mind would go in there willingly! Then again, she didn't appear to actually _be _in her right mind. In fact, he was positive Granger's "right mind" (or left mind, depending on how you looked at it) would even let her take one step within ten feet of that forest.

No, certainly not. As he contemplated this, however, the very same bushy-haired female that occupied his current thoughts was entering the forest as calmly as she had exited the castle.

_"Well, this is my cue to turn around," _he thought. _"I don't care what she's up to, I'm not going in there!"_

But he stood transfixed, unable to tear his eyes away from her advancing form. He didn't really want to move, did he?

No, he was perfectly comfortable here, standing two feet deep in the snow, yes, perfectly warm --

Draco shook his head. What the hell? He had just decided upon going inside!

No, he should really stay here, and just watch her. It was really too intriguing. Besides, she wasn't going to enter the forest completely anyway...

Now how did he know that? He certainly didn't know what was going on in Granger's large head. He resolutely turned around and took a step in the opposite direction --

-- only to be turned back around again, facing Hermione once more.

Oh, bugger. He _really_ should have stayed in the castle.

---------

Hermione was having a very strange dream. At least it _felt_ like a dream. She didn't really dream all that much. When she did, it was usually about exams or books -- not this strange nighttime trip through Hogwarts.

What was even more peculiar, and which convinced her that her dream was, in fact, a dream, was the fact that Draco Malfoy was in her dream. And apparently walking beside her, deep in thought. Without trying to hex her, or looking suspiciously around for the boys of the Golden Trio -- just walking.

And the fact that she couldn't move, talk, or even see all that well was also a point in favor of her experience indeed being a dream.

Yes, definitely a dream.

She was moving forward rather slowly - she itched to resume the normal hallway-rush pace she usually assumed - but instead just kept on...gliding.

This dream was getting rather odd. She wouldn't mind if she would_ please wake up _about now...

While she was trying (and failing) to walk at her own pace, (her feet seemed glued together) a flickering lantern-light appeared around the corner. Faintly the sound of adoring whispers reached her dream-sensitive ears and she started violently. (Somehow, she accomplished this without really moving. She suspected her body was having quite the fit back in her bed of the physical world.)

_"Filch!"_ her mind screamed, as her mouth tried vainly to move.

She had to run, hide, something, _anything_ but be caught out of bed after hours!

However, there was just one problem. Her legs still refused to obey her brain. Along with her arms, neck, feet, and hands as well.

Well. She could wake up now, she decided. Yes, she could most definitely wake up _NOW_!

...It wasn't working. She swore quietly to herself. Malfoy, still walking beside her and staring at the floor, didn't seem to notice.

Stupid dream.

Hermione stared at Malfoy for a little while, trying to wave her hands in front of his face to alert him to Filch. He would see them at any moment now!

Amazingly, while her arms stayed resolutely still at her side, he looked up.

She watched him grin as he spotted the cat Filch was speaking to earlier. His gaze traveled from Filch back to her, and the grin turned into a nasty smirk. Oho, he knew she was going to get in trouble, did he? Well, if she could be seen, so could he!

He seemed to have realized this, as his jaw dropped in shock. Hermione frowned. Why was he shocked? Filch was always out and about during the night, trying to catch potential rule-breaking students...

A second later, he was over whatever shock he had experienced, and was looking frantically about for a spot to hide.

She watched, amused, as he tried (vainly) to sneak behind a tapestry.

Then stopped being amused, because she was still standing in the middle of the hallway, in plain sight! But Filch didn't seem to have seen her, and was instead heading straight for the tapestry underneath which Malfoy was currently hiding.

Hah. She laughed at her own rare bout of stupidity. It was _her_ dream, why should she get caught? Clearly, she had some extreme pent-up hatred for Malfoy and was just expressing it in this odd dream as she imagined him getting caught - the very thing she was terrified of.

Well...

Perhaps it was just rather hilarious, watching the Head Boy get caught sneaking out-of-bed.

...Or so she thought. Filch didn't seem to be seeing Malfoy, either.

Huh. Strange dream.

Malfoy seemed to be surprised as well. But seeing as he could actually move (she really didn't think it was fair - this was her dream!) he impulsively ran up to Filch and waved a hand in front of Filch's face. Filch was completely oblivious. This time it was Hermione's jaw that dropped. Mentally, of course, because she couldn't seem to move. She watched in forced silence as Malfoy quit waving his hand in front of Filch and moved over to her, waving the same hand in front of her face. She flinched. He didn't notice.

And then she was moving again. It seemed she was walking -- running -- _gliding_ -- towards the entrance hall...where in the world was this dream taking her? It seemed awfully clear and long to be classified as a dream...

--------------------------------------

Short update for a month's wait, I know. Terribly sorry about that. I'm going to plead the cliche'd excuse of STRESS and no time to write. It's the truth. I've been insane, trying to make my grades into a 3.9 at least and I've been researching possible colleges like crazy. So, very sorry. This fic was and kind-of still is an experiment. So I can't promise I'll ever get it finished, or that it will have a wonderful plot with wonderful prose writing. I'll do my best, however.

**Good News:** I've already got the plan for the fifth chapter (which hopefully will be longer) ready to go and I'm hoping it should be up by next week sometime.


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